Insomnia
by Cocoa987
Summary: The only sounds were Riley's footsteps, a demon's laughter echoing in his head, and the quiet hush of a sleeping house. Riley Poole can't sleep. Neither can Abigail Gates. Written in the Ashes To Ashes -verse. Angst-ish.


**Hello!**

**Disclaimer: I owe doubly nothing. National Treasure belongs to Disney and all those other peoples. The backstory belongs to Jedi Pirate Jaeh and LoremIpsum, the fantabulous people behind Ashes to Ashes. I simply enjoy tormenting Riley.**

**Insomnia**

Riley bolted upward out of bed only to find that he had drifted off in front of his laptop.

Again.

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and tried to ignore the way he was trembling underneath the covers. His mind felt heavy and slow, his arms and legs and entire being stubbornly refusing to do as he wanted. He shifted on the bed, being careful to mind his computer and all the other assorted junk on his bed. He only winced twice as he rolled over- his feet were still sore, as were some of the cuts on his legs. Curling his legs in slowly, he stared at the wall and willed his fingers to stop trembling. After a long moment, he closed his eyes and settled deeper into his pillow, studiously ignoring the thoughts racing through his head. He sighed and pulled the covers up to his chin, fists bunching in the fabric even as he felt his body beginning to relax...

_Thump_.

He bolted upward, scrabbling madly for his glasses, heart pounding wildly. His eyes flitted across the room, trying to convince his mind that the figure he saw lurking in the shadows wasn't real.

"What the heck." It sounded far more like a whimper than he had hoped  
it would. He _hated_ old houses, new houses- houses in general. All houses sounded the same at night, creaking and groaning and making sounds that shot fear through Riley's shattered nerves. He moaned quietly  
before carefully putting on his glasses- his hands were shaking, he noted absently.

Rolling out of bed, shuddering at the cool air hitting his skin, he picked his way through the assorted junk cluttering his floor. He hissed quietly under his breath as he nearly walked straight into the edge of the bed. From there it was barely a step to the door.

Riley Poole opened the door and walked out into the hall. Hesitating only for a moment, he turned and walked down the hall. His feet padded softly on the soft carpet as he walked slowly down the moonlit hall.

The only sounds were his footsteps, a demon's laughter echoing in his head, and the quiet hush of a sleeping house. 

It was 2:37 am, and Abigail Marie Gates couldn't sleep.

She stared up at the ceiling, counting the tick of seconds slipping away on the clock, trying (unsuccessfully) to get her mind to stop spinning. The absence of Ben's slow even breaths was sorely missed- by the looks of things, he had dozed off in his study. No doubt she'd find him the next morning with a hint of ink smudged on his face. It had happened dozens of times before, and would happen dozens of times in the future.

Her lips twitched upward at the concept before she realized she had stopped counting. She rolled over with a sigh and stared at the clock. 2:39.

One, two, three...

_Creeeeak._

Four, five, six…

_Creeak._

Seven, eight, nine…

_Thunk._ _Hisssss._

Abigail's eyes snapped open. That hadn't sounded like normal old-house sounds. She glanced at the door just as a slit of moonlight shone through the crack.

"Shhh!" A soft whisper- apparently directed at the door- solidified Abigail's conclusion.

"Riley?" she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes tiredly.

The figure stood silhouetted by the moonlight streaming through the door, shuffling his feet. He had been staring at his feet, but when she spoke, he looked up, light glinting off his glasses.

"Hey, Abby," he said softly, leaning against the doorway like it was perfectly normal for him to show up in her bedroom in the early hours of the night. He smiled sheepishly at her and tucked his hands behind his back. "What's up?"

She looked at him dubiously. "What's wrong, Riley?" He stared at her for a moment longer, still grinning, before he slumped.

"Can't sleep," he muttered quietly. She looked at him again, caught the shadows under his eyes that had been present for weeks on end. She sat herself up further and studied his expression carefully. The corner of his mouth twitched in an obvious attempt to reassure him, even as his eyes flicked toward the windows and back.

"Why don't you read or something?" she suggested. "You could check out what's happening in Japan- It's mid-afternoon there. You have your laptop charger, don't you?" He shrugged listlessly and pulled his hands out from behind his back with another one of those half-hearted grins.

"I would, Abs, if I could get my hands to hold still." He held his hands out in front of himself, stretching carefully. True to his words, his hands were shaking uncontrollably, and after a moment, he tucked them behind his back once more, clasping them together and pressing them against the doorframe.

Abigail looked at the shadows under his eyes once more, dark shadows on his already-pale face. "How long has it been since you slept, Riley?"

He shrugged again, eyes drawn to the floor by something Abigail couldn't see. "I fell asleep on the couch watching the baseball game. Never saw who won. When I woke up it was the hockey game- Blackhawks won, for the record. I think they're going to get the Stanley Cup, even though-"

"Riley." He fell silent abruptly, even as Abigail realized that she hadn't heard him warm to a subject like that in weeks. She sighed and tried again. "When was the last time you slept for more than four hours?" Riley hesitated.

"I can't remember. Tuesday night, maybe?" Abigail stretched to remember the date, her tired mind counting sluggishly before hitting on the answer.

"It's Friday."

"Early Saturday, technically." He shrugged a third time, that sheepish grin on his face once more. "I don't normally make it this long without caffeine. Although I've gotten close. Normally I'd have crashed by now. But..." his grin faded as he pulled his hands out in front of him once more. "I can't." He traced a scar on his arm with an unsteady finger before looking at Abigail uncertainly.

Her mind was made up. "Come on," she told him, pulling back the covers and standing up carefully, slipping her feet into her favorite pair of slippers. She padded toward him, and he stepped out into the hall behind her.

"Where are we going?"

"Warm milk. Down in the kitchen." Riley followed her down the hall as Abigail padded down the steps, flicking on the kitchen lights and making a beeline for the fridge. He sat down on one of the stools, watching her. He propped his head on his hand, arm resting on the counter. On the opposite side of the counter, Abigail set two glasses side by side, filling them nearly to the brim with milk. Into the microwave they went for a few seconds, and Abigail took the opportunity to drag a stool around the counter so she could sit. The timer binged and she slid a glass over to Riley, who took it quietly. He lifted his glass, tilting it toward her, and she lifted hers. The glasses clinked and they both took a sip.

The comfortable silence stretched on in the night. Riley's glass was half-empty by the time he looked up. He swirled his glass around thoughtfully, and Abigail waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. "I don't really want to talk about any of it."

Abigail shrugged and took another sip of her rapidly-cooling milk. "You don't have to." But you should. The second part of the sentence hung in the air between them, and Riley sighed, swiping at his eyes tiredly.

"I-I don't want to think about it. But- it won't get out of my head." He looked away and downed the rest of his milk in one gulp. She matched him, draining her glass and setting it down with a soft clink.

"What do you want me to do?" She didn't expect him to have much of an answer, so she wasn't surprised when he refused to meet her eyes. He rubbed the rim of his glass slowly, a soft whine audible in the quiet kitchen. She waited patiently for him to say something, even as she felt the effects of the milk pulling her eyelids down...

"I don't know, Abigail. I just- I didn't want-" he sighed, staring at his reflection in the glass. "I don't know. I just- I don't know anymore."

Abigail stood up and put the glasses in the sink, before replacing her stool and coming to stand beside Riley. "You need to sleep, Riley. This isn't healthy. Come on- I'll walk you back up." He stood up slowly, wincing as various joints popped- Abigail winced in sympathy. He followed her back up the stairs silently, his face blank until she walked past his door, down the hall to her room.

"Wait- Abigail!" he hissed, stumbling blindly after her in the dark. "Abby?" She was back at his side in a flash.

"What's wrong?"

"I-I can't do this, Abigail. Don't make me go back in there. I-I just can't. I can't sleep. Please don't make me." His voice, already panicked, slowly took on a hysterical edge. He stayed quiet, even as his voice got higher. Abigail put a hand on his shoulder and he flinched violently. "Sorry, sorry," she said softly, stepping back automatically. He pressed his back against the wall, just looking at her with a pathetic look in his eye. Abigail's mind flashed to a puppy she had once seen by the side of the road as a child- a little black Lab. It was marked with scars, fur torn and dirty. He had been sprawled by the side of the road in the rain, too exhausted to stay away from the cars roaring by, sending sprays of water cascading onto his too-small too-still body. She hadn't been able to do anything to help the little creature. She wasn't going to stand by and watch Riley fall apart too.

"You need to sleep, Riley," she told him softly. His entire body slumped, as if the wall was the only thing holding up- Abigail was halfway sure that it was. "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep, okay?" She stood still and waited for him to make a decision, biting back a yawn that would probably not help things in the slightest.

Riley glanced up at her tiredly, then dipped his head in a nod. She smiled in the dark and followed him into his room, picking her way through the clutter littering his floor carefully. He crawled under his sheets silently, and Abigail reached over him cautiously, retrieving his laptop and putting it safely on his desk. Riley curled up close to the wall, and Abigail perched on the edge of the bed tentatively.

They were silent for a long while, and Abigail felt her eyelids tugging closed. She pinched the skin by her wrist, the sharp sting waking her up. She fell into the habit of counting, keeping track of the whirring of Riley's fan. One, two, three, four...

"I can't do this," Riley muttered quietly. Abigail glanced over at him. He was lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Every time I close my eyes, I..." he trailed off, glancing at Abigail uncertainly.

"Just...let your mind go blank," Abigail suggested softly. He snorted and returned his gaze to the ceiling.

"I can't do that, Abby. My mind won't shut off," he informed the ceiling. She could hear the frustrated edge in his voice. She knew the feeling- it was annoying to not have your body do what you wanted it to do.

"Ok. Here's what we're going to do," she told him, settling back on her pillow and looking at him. He stared back at her blankly. "Close your eyes," they did so almost automatically, and a sad smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. "Just breathe. Count your breaths back from fifty. Don't think about anything else. Just count." She listened to him take a slow breath. "Fifty..." another breath. "Forty-nine..."

Abigail closed her eyes and counted softly under her breath. Her breathing slowed to match Riley's, and before long, she could feel him lose the battle with wakefulness and settle into sleep. She kept counting to herself, reaching zero and starting over at one hundred.

She was at thirty-seven when she heard his breathing speed up. It took her a moment to notice, half-asleep herself. She only figured it out when her breaths, still matched to his, came faster and faster. Her eyes snapped open just as Riley moaned.

She shifted to see better, willing her eyes to adjust to the dark room faster. "Riley?" She whispered into the night. She could make out his form beside her, curled in on itself, facing the wall. He twisted sharply, the faintest hint of moonlight catching his features, twisted by fear.

"Riley!" she said, more urgently than before. She hesitated at reaching out to him- he had reacted so sharply when he was awake- there was no doubt he'd react just as violently in the throes of a nightmare. She reached out and switched on the lamp, wincing at the sudden brightness.

Blinking furiously, she turned helplessly back to Riley. His eyes were closed tight, forehead creased. "Riley?" He shuddered, hands clenching, and she bit her lip before putting a hand on his shoulder tentatively.

Riley bolted up, tearing her hand off his shoulder, shrinking back into the corner even as he cried out wildly. His eyes darted around the room, not quite focusing on her but taking in her presence warily. "D-don't. P-please don't."

Abigail slid off the bed carefully, holding her hands in front of her. Riley's eyes were wide, his pupils dilated, making his eyes nearly all black. He was curled into the corner, like a frightened animal. Terrified, but dangerous, should he need to defend himself. She kept her hands in front where he could see them, waiting for him to calm down, or lose control, or something that would change that hunted look on his face.

"Riley? It's Abigail. You're safe. Everything's alright," she told him, her voice slipping into that reassuring tone she had been using far too often lately. He looked at her, finally recognizing her, finally comprehending.

"Abigail," he said flatly, still not completely relaxing, but coming out of his corner just a bit.

"It's okay, Riley. You're fine. It's okay," she repeated calmly. His eyes hardened.

"It's not 'okay', Abigail. Everything's not 'okay'. It's the furthest it could be from 'okay'," he said roughly. "This _sucks_, Abigail! I can't sleep! Every time I close my eyes, I see his face!" He choked on a laugh. "I can _hear_ him, Abigail. I can hear him laughing. Every time I close my eyes. He won't leave me alone."

"Riley, I-" she started.

"No, Abigail. Don't even start," he cut her off. "You don't 'get it'. You can't 'get it'. You can't understand what I've been through. You're _never_ going to understand what it's like. So just- don't." He turned to face the wall abruptly, apparently done with the conversation. Abigail stood rigid, frozen by the cutting edge in his voice. She turned stiffly, reaching out blindly for something, anything to grab onto that would ground her, pull her back from the nerve Riley had inadvertently struck.

She grabbed onto his laptop. And an idea struck.

Abigail flipped open the laptop, logged into the main account, and pulled up the internet.

"What are you doing." Riley had turned away from the wall- finally- and sprawled back across the bed. His voice was still cold, his face still blank. But there had been a flicker of interest somewhere in his words.

Abigail didn't reply, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She entered a search, typed in a familiar phrase, clicked a link. As the page loaded she flipped the laptop around and presented it to Riley.

"Just...just read it," she ordered him tightly. Riley retrieved his glasses and righted them on his face carefully. She could see the screen reflected off the lenses, and turned away, turning her attention to straightening Riley's desk. She had read the article far too many times, relived the events for far too many hours. Even half-asleep, even with her mind buzzing with so many things, she could recite the article from memory.

_**Teen Killed in Kidnapping Situation**_

_A tragedy occurred on Saturday, May 17th, 1978. Lauren Chase, a sophomore at the local high school, was killed by her kidnapper only moments before she could be recovered safely._

_The kidnapper provided a ransom note, requesting a sum not available for public release. Chase's younger sister, Abigail (10) was to bring the money to a designated point, where the exchange would be made._

_Police were on the scene at the time of the exchange. Lauren appeared beaten by her kidnapper, who had not been identified as of release. Abigail was under close protection, as a key part of recovering her elder sister._

_The kidnapper took the money before drawing a gun on the younger girl. Police were unable to move in without risking the lives of both of the girls. Lauren stepped in front of the gunshot in an effort to protect her sister. Abigail was rescued unharmed. Lauren received a bullet to the stomach. She passed away regardless of paramedics on the scene._

_Lauren is survived by her two parents, Richard and Melissa Chase, both doctors at the local hospital, Abigail Gates, and an unborn sibling. The community is in mourning for a young woman who so deeply embodied the spirit of the town._

_The funeral is to be held on Wednesday, May 21st at eleven._

Abigail refused to meet Riley's eyes, focusing her attention on straightening the scattered pens and pencils on his desk for the third time. She could feel his gaze on her, laced with something like shock, or maybe pity.

"Abigail, I-" she stopped him before he could begin.

"Just let me talk," she ordered softly, closing her eyes and gripping the edge of the desk tightly. She took a deep breath and turned around, still not meeting his eyes.

"It was a month after my tenth birthday when she got kidnapped. I still don't know why- our parents were both doctors, and we lived a pretty comfy life, but we weren't rich. Mom was five months pregnant, and for a while we thought that the baby wouldn't make it.

Lauren was fifteen. Fifteen, Riley. She was missing for three days before we got a ransom note. He wanted two hundred thousand dollars. It would've put our family in debt. I smashed my piggy bank and gave my father all my birthday money. I thought it would help. I just wanted my big sister back." Abigail forced herself up into motion, crouching to pick up the clothes littering the floor.

"I was in charge of the transaction. We didn't know why, but the police weren't going to argue. They gave me a bulletproof vest so I was safe-safer. We met under a bridge. Police had the area surrounded, but they couldn't move in until my sister and I were clear." She stopped, hesitated, frozen in front of the window. She could see her reflection mirrored in the glass, and closed her eyes, starting again slowly.

"She wasn't dead when we got to her, but she was close enough. It was- she was tortured, Riley. Fifteen. _Fifteen_," she forced the words out through a clenched jaw, her throat tight. It always hurt to talk about this. Nearly thirty years later and she could still see it flashing before her eyes.

"Once he had the money, he pulled out his gun and aimed it at me. I was terrified, but I wouldn't have been killed. He was aiming for my chest- and I had the vest on underneath my shirt. I would have been safe."

"But she didn't know," Riley said quietly, and she whirled around to face him, eyes stinging.

"She didn't know- so she stepped in front of the bullet for me. She died because of me." She forced herself to move away, needing her hands to do something, anything to distract her mind.

"I had nightmares for years. I went to counseling, like-" she cut herself off before she could say 'like you'. "I went to counseling. Mom named the baby Elizabeth Lauren. She never knew her big sister- it wasn't fair."

She grabbed a pile of clothes with trembling hands. "It doesn't say there how bad her injuries were- when I saw you- it wasn't-" she faltered- "you know- who kidnapped her, but- she was tortured, Riley. I still don't know why. I can't understand why someone would do that. To anyone." She turned to Riley with shining eyes.

"I don't understand what you've been through, Riley. I probably can't even come close. But- I have an idea of what you're going through. You're right- it sucks. It's going to suck. It's not fair." She lapsed into silence for a moment longer, before another thought wandered through her mind. "You can't just let yourself stop, Riley. You can't let this beat you. You _can't_." She was up again, pacing once more.

"All my life, I was the girl whose sister had been killed. I always heard about her. Even through high school. How she set an exemplary example, and how she was such a nice girl, so funny, so sweet, and such a shame that this had happened to her, and _what a waste_." She ground the last phrase out, slamming a desk drawer violently.

All the anger that had kept her going flooded away suddenly, and she sighed heavily and returned to the side of the bed, taking the laptop gently from Riley, closing out of the browser, and shutting the system down.

"I don't want people to talk about you and say 'what a waste', Ri. You're stronger than that," she told him softly. He looked up at her uncertainly.

"Abigail- I-I'm sorry. I didn't- Ben doesn't-"

"Ben doesn't know," she finished for him. He nodded, more to himself than her, before looking back at her.

"Sorry for freaking," he said wryly. She ruffled his hair, and he rolled his eyes, a relieved smile twitching at the corners of his face that almost-but-not-quite reached his eyes.

"It's fine," she reassured him quietly. She glanced at the clock- 3:17- and sighed, rubbing a hand over her eyes once more- she had been doing that increasingly often lately.

"You want to try that sleep thing again?" she asked him. He shifted under the covers and looked at her hesitantly.

"If you're not mad-"

"I'm not mad at you, Riley-"

"Please stay," he blurted out, obviously louder than he expected. He flushed and glanced away.

Abigail sighed and glanced at the door longingly. She wouldn't be able to fall asleep for the rest of the night- she was never able to fall asleep after something triggered the darker memories of her childhood. She had some sleeping pills in her drawer that were always just enough to get her to sleep on her worst nights. Riley caught the look and misinterpreted, as he was prone to do.

"Never mind, you should sleep. I'll just- sit here," he said, trailing off miserably. She sighed tiredly. She really didn't have the patience to deal with all this, not at this hour and running on an afternoon shot of coffee.

"I'll be right back- I promise. Give me thirty seconds," she told him, willing him not to argue. An eyebrow quirked, but Abigail was halfway down the hall before Riley could make any other form of protest.

She reappeared in the doorway to see Riley sitting in exactly the same position, still staring at the door with something like numb confusion on his face. He blinked at her. She waved a hand half-heartedly. "Thirty more seconds, Riley. Let me run back down to the kitchen-" she wondered how much of the last sentence she had heard, as she was nearly halfway down the stairs by the time she finished talking.

The lights flicked on, two glasses were grabbed from the sink, rinsed, and refilled with water. Abigail balanced the glasses carefully, nudged the light off with her side, and darted back up the stairs. Riley had settled himself back on the far side of the bed, and Abigail sat down on the other side.

Riley studied her warily. "What are those?"

"Sleeping pills," she replied absently, struggling with the childproof cap that she always seemed to have difficulty with. Her back was turned to him, so she didn't see his expression until she turned to hand him a glass. She nearly dropped the glass. As it was a few drops spilled from the side, splashing on his pant leg. She hissed under her breath and set the glass down hurriedly. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want any pills. I'm already taking enough." There was a stubborn edge in expression, dampened by exhaustion, but still there nonetheless. Abigail bit her lip worriedly. She had forgotten about the outrageous amounts of painkiller the hospital had given Riley when they had left.

"What are you on?" She had a pretty good idea of what would affect the small white pills in her hand and what wouldn't. Riley listed off a few names slowly, than shook his head.

"Most of it should be worn off by now...I don't want any other pills, though, Abby. I want to get through this by myself." He looked at her, willing her to understand. It had already clicked for her.

"You won't get addicted to these, Riley. I promise. Look- we'll both take half a dose. That will be plenty," she suggested hopefully. Riley looked at the bottle uncertainly, and she held it out for him to see. He took it gingerly and squinted at the label for a moment before sighing and popping open the lid easily. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and a small smile twitched at the ends of his mouth as he dug through the bottle. He found two halves and passed one to her. She handed him a glass.

"Cheers," she said sardonically as their glasses clinked together. His smile grew, and something flickered behind his eyes. He tipped his head back and drained the glass, before reaching past her to set it on the stand. She set her glass next to his and looked at him, half-smiling. "Still want me to stay?"

"If you don't mind..."

"Move over," she ordered him teasingly, settling back on the pillows next to him. She glanced at him sternly. "And keep your hands off, or we'll hear it from Ben."

"Not my fault he didn't see," Riley muttered sleepily, one side of his face smushed into the pillow. She rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair once more, partially because it was becoming a habit and -mostly- because he looked too darn cute half-asleep.

"Night, Riley," she whispered, switching off the light.

"Night, Abby." 

Ben Gates woke up with ink on his face. He wandered down the hallway, still half-asleep, rubbing the side of his face in a half-hearted attempt to get the ink off his face before he went and crashed on the nice pillows.

He hadn't succeeded in the slightest before reaching the bedroom. He was hesitating over either going back to sleep and ignoring the annoyance he would get from Abigail for ruining another pillowcase or cutting his losses and going off in search of coffee when he realized that both sides of the bed were empty. He glanced at his watch. 5:47. There was no way Abigail could be awake yet- she was a notoriously late sleeper. Either way, the house was far too quiet. Something wasn't right.

He turned and hurried down the hall, down to Riley's room. If something had happened while he was asleep-

He opened the door roughly. It almost slammed into the wall, and Ben had to stop it from bouncing back and hitting him in the face.

Abigail and Riley were curled up on the bed, the first rays of morning light striking their sleeping faces. They were facing each other, close enough to touch- Abigail had her arm near Riley's forehead, and his hands reached up to circle his pillow. Both were fast asleep. Riley's brow wasn't furrowed from nightmares. He looked almost at peace.

That was good enough for Ben. He wasn't quite sure what had happened while he dreamt of Civil War battles, but his wife and his best friend looked perfectly content, and he wasn't going to ruin things now. It was far too early for anyone to be up.

He tiptoed across the room and shut the blinds carefully, darkening the room. He turned, ready to make his escape-

"Hey," Abigail said sleepily, eyes half-open. He turned and smiled at her.

"Good morning," he said, tucking in the sheets just a bit tighter. She smiled and snuggled deeper into the pillow.

"Sorry about this- Riley couldn't sleep and neither could I so I figured-"

"That's what I thought-"

"-you wouldn't mind-"

"-it was just a bit weird to not see you in our room-"

"-didn't think I'd stay asleep so long-"

He cut her off at last and kissed her on the forehead gently. A smile spread across her face as her eyelids slipped closed. "Go back to sleep." She nodded, already half-asleep.

"'Night," she muttered. Ben smoothed her hair, grinned at Riley, who was still dead to the world, and headed for the door.

"Ben?" He turned at the top of the steps and glanced back into the room. Abigail was looking at the door, eyes bright.

"Yeah?"

"Love you." He grinned.

"Love you too. Now go back to sleep." He watched her fall sleepily back on the pillows, then went off to make himself some coffee.

__

It is easy to be pleasant when life flows by like a song, but the man worth while is the one who will smile when everything goes dead wrong. For the test of heart is trouble, and it always comes with years, and the smile that is worth the praises of earth is the smile that shines through the tears.

_(Irish proverb)_

****

I'm not _totally_ sure if the article turned out alright, but I tried!

**Go Blackhawks! :D**

**Thank you Lori and Jaeh for letting me play in your world!**

**Cocoa =D**


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